Alone?
by X-Serai-X
Summary: ""You really are a piece of work, Reyna." Octavian muttered as he carried Reyna back into the bathroom and gently set the sobbing girl on the green-veined granite counter. Was a One-shot, now a series of Reyvian (ReynaxOctavian) One-shots. Contains a bit of spoilers for MOA. T for some language.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey all :D**

**I wanted to try a little one-shot for Reyna and Octavian ^^ I really like Octavian, but in this he'll seem...jerkish? A ass? Yeah, that works ^^**

**It'll be in Reyna's POV, so enjoy ^^**

* * *

Alone?

Reyna POV:

Reyna looked at the group of demigods and legacies before her, they're faces downcast, their moods dimmed like the lights of this hotel. All were tired from the long trip from New Rome to New York, all were angry, agitated, and annoyed, and all were wondering: Wheres the enemy? Octavian, the weasel he was, had been consulting the auguries endlessly, but the camp was still hidden from his view.

Reyna knew; she knew exactly where Half-Blood Hill was, what roads to take, where to turn; she knew exactly where to strike. Thanks to her and Annabeths fleeting friendship, the blonde had given her the route in detail as to where to find them. She could tell them, tell them where the enemy was, tell them where they could set up to attack without being noticed, tell them how to strike for the best effect. But she didn't.

She had made a promise to Annabeth- to the whole crew of the Argo ll, that she would hold off the Romans for as long as possible. She had botched the directions, she had gotten them lost several times, and now she was keeping the crucial information of where the camp was from them. She hated seeing her soldiers like this; some were depressed, and some had even decided to leave the legion because of the hidden camp.

Because of her.

She felt guilty; so guilty that she just wanted to ball up and cry like she had been wanting to for the past few months. Ever since Jason left, ever since Percy rejected her, and, more recently, ever since she found out that Jason had moved on, for some Aphrodite girl who spoke with magic. Ever since not one, but two praetors had left her with a job for two and an annoying augury. She should have hated them all, should have led her army without hesitation to destroy the enemy, the Greeks. That would have made Octavian get off her case, would have given her more respect among her brethren, but no. Here she sat, alone in her makeshift praetor chair with an empty one beside her that seemed to mock her own title, debating on whether or not to tell her legion that the enemy camp was only a few miles away from their current location.

Before she could make up her mind, she saw her comrades shifting, parting their ways. Here came the thorn in her side, the bane of her existence with his pale yellow hair and sunken face. His pale blue eyes were no longer hungry for blood; they seem satisfied, as if they had finally feasted and were now filled. Reyna absently thought that he looked more like a lone wolf then ever as her face hardened and she straightened in her chair, waving a hand to silence the buzzing soldiers.

"Romans!" He called, stopping in the middle of the room and standing on a tall table, hands in the air like a squawking bird. He was dressed in a white t-shirt and baggy jeans, three teddy bears on his belt. Over his clothes was a white toga, held by a clip that Reyna could just barely make out; bow and arrow crossed over with a scroll in the middle, the sign of Apollo. Reyna's only close comrades and confidants two dogs named Argetum and Aurum, stood at attention, watching the augury with their murderous ruby eyes as he called the Romans to attention;

"I bring you great news! Now, some of you have heard of the three deserters, yes?" Octavian asked, getting a few nods and boos from the Romans. Reyna's hands tightened on her make-shift chair; what business did he have, bringing up those traitors? How dare he talk of their disgrace with such light in his eyes, as if leaving New Rome were a joke. Reyna hid a snarl, leaning back in her chair and waited.

"Well, let me tell you, they are not the traitorous scum you have all been led to believe." Led to believe? What did he mean by that? Reyna wisely kept quiet, knowing that Octavian was of the scheming sort and had probably cooked up some crack-pot idea while being alone in his lodging, chopping up teddy bears.

"You see, many nights ago me and our honored praetor, Reyna, had a discussion." All eyes landed on her, and Reyna had to keep from visibly sinking back into her chair. Their gazes were unnerves and among them some where hopeful, some angry, and others purely spiteful. Instead of shrinking back, she squared her shoulders with a grim line on her face, watching Octavian with murderous eyes like her two dogs, "We decided that in order to find the enemy, and not rile up the troops, we selected three people, whom we trusted greatly, to go and scout for us."

Reyna would have let herself pale if it hadn't been for the eyes on her. If Octavian was suggesting what she thought he was...

"Marissa, Alexander, Eric, please enter." Octavian waved his arm towards a door and the three deserters- one girl and two boys, entered. The reception they got was not a kind one. The room erupted in jeers and taunts, hate callings and insults. Octavian tried to silence them, and Reyna had to smile slightly; his plan might not have been working as well as he thought it would. She lifted a hand to silence her soldiers with a sigh, annoyed. She knew if she didn't that it would probably come back to bite her in the ass.

"Let him finish." She stated with vice, glaring at Octavian. The weasel cleared his throat, giving her a sinister grin before speaking again:

"Yes, I understand that their presence is not welcome but please listen. When myself and Reyna talked, Reyna had decided that it would be prudent to send three scouts under the vise of deserters to find the enemies. Thankfully, it worked, and we have now secured the whereabouts of the Greeks!" The room went quiet, and this time Reyna did pale as every eye turned towards her, filled with reverence and awe, but Reyna didn't like it. She felt more alone now then ever, felt the sharp pain of being the ony leader when there should be two as she tried to sum up the courage to speak.

Octavian had gone behind her back, sending three scouts to go find the camp without her consent. She could feel her throat close, her eyes wide. She knew she couldn't disprove him- if she spoke out, it might have labeled Octavian as a liar, but it would also show that she didn't have control over her troops and that her leadership was easily swayed. If she let it pass, she might have their support and awe, but if anything went wrong it would rest completely on her shoulders. Octavian had put her in between a rock and a hard place, while he himself just stood to the side, free of any responsibility. Argetum and Aurum growled at her sides, ready to tear out his lying hide, but she held her hand for them to settle.

She glared at Octavian, and he glared at her, like he was waiting.

Oh.

Reyna stood with a fierce look in her eyes that a few of the Romans close to her shrank back a little, and she cleared her throat.

"I am glad that the party has succeed. Let us welcome back the three scouts with a feast proper, and then we plan for war." A cheer went up as the whole room erupted into blissful chaos and gathered around the three, who were beaming. Reyna sent a look around, trying to locate Octavian and give him a good verbal slap across the face when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"We need to talk." Octavian stated simply before walking away and gesturing for her to follow.

* * *

"That was," Reyna started, arms crossed as she walked back and forth in Octavians room, not taking in the calm cream curtains or the plush green carpet under her bare feet, " the most, " She stopped moving and faced Octavian, who was smugly sitting at the foot of his bed and watching her with amusement. His eyes and smile only infuriated her more, and she reached for the sword that wasn't there, "infuriating, uncalled for piece of bullshit that I have ever heard! What were you thinking, sending out scouts behind my back? How dare you, Octavian!" She wanted to slap him, cut his throat, take his head between her hands and crush it, but she settled for giving him her best and well-practiced instant-death glare. He laughed at her, standing up with his hands behind his head, staring at her as if she were the most amusing thing in the room.

"I was thinking of giving them hope, Reyna. They were flogging, thinking we were on a wild goose chase and loosing hope of ever getting back their honor. I decided to take matters into my own hands. Would you have sent out a scouting party if given the option? Sure, I went across your back and lied a little, but aren't you glad? Your troops are happy now. To them, you have done well, Reyna. You should be thanking me."

Inside, she knew he was right; she knew, if given the choice, she wouldn't have sent out a private party. She would have lost more men for real instead of just a set-up, but she was still angry as ever. And she would not be thanking him for giving her false honor.

"Why didn't you just stick to your auguries? Were the Gods hiding their will from you?" She shouted instead. His amused smile faded, and Reyna knew she had hit a soft spot; Octavian hated anybody dissing his abilities, and she had done just that and felt proud of it. He let his hands drop, and Reyna could see the muscles in his arms tightening as his hands balled into fists.

"A strong magical barrier hid the camp from my sights, but not from the sights of three half-bloods. I did what needed to be done, Reyna. Can't you see that?" He demanded, walking up to her til they were a few inches apart. He stood a good 5 inches taller then her, and his breath, she noted, smelled slightly like peppermint. She ignored this and glared up at him, poking him in the chest, "It doesn't matter! You went behind my back! If word got out that it was all a front, I'll be to blame. I'll be the one who failed and be labeled a liar. You ass, you knew this would happen, you planned it out so that it would all fall on my shoulders alone!"

_It wouldn't be all on my shoulders,_ She thought with disgust, _If Jason and Percy hadn't left me in the dust._

Octavian leaned close, and for a dreadful moment she thought he was going to kiss her. Instead, he got closer until his was whispering in her ear;

"You don't have to be alone, you know." He said quietly before pulling away. Reyna growled with disgust and turned to leave the room, done with him and his schemes. She wanted to go set it straight, tell them it hadn't been her idea, but it was too late: she had confirmed Octavian, and now anything said would cause her to loose the trust of the people she cared about the most. To her surprise, Octavian gripped her wrist to stop her. For a moment, they were still as Reyna turned to look at Octavian with fierce eyes. He seemed confused and a bit surprised himself, until he seemed to decide for himself what he was doing.

Quickly, he pulled her closer and leaned in, giving her a kiss before letting her go and leaving the room before she could process what had just happened.

Now she stood alone in his room, trying to decide what to do as she wrapped her arms around herself, feeling a cold breeze filter through the room, trying to decide what to think. Thoughts of Octavian kissing, her, tricking the legion and laying everything down on her, of being left alone to run two spots filled her as she felt herself sit down on the floor, crawling into the fetal position. She should have left his room immediately, should have slapped him, retaliated, anything. But she couldn't bring herself to move as she laid on his floor, squeezing her eyes closed as tears threatened to trickle down her face.

_Dammit Jason, Percy. Why did you leave me all alone? Why did you leave the fate of New Rome on my shoulders? Don't you care what happens to them, to Camp Half-blood, to me? _Bitter thoughts ran through her mind as she decided to glare at the floor, until one thought surfaced;

_You don't have to be alone, you know._ Octavians words whispered to her, suggesting a multitude of things, some she would have never considered until now. Slowly, she picked herself off the floor, standing and straightening her jeans, her shirt, her praetors robe. She dried her eyes, face set in a grim line as she made her way to the door, hearing the celebration of a successful scouting go under way. She must have been out longer then she had thought.

When she stepped out of the room and headed towards the gathering hall, a few Romans smiled at her and congratulated her. It was all she could do not to break down in tears over a victory not hers as she finally pushed open the doors into the gathering hall.

Her eyes sought out Octavians until they found his thin, sickly form, silently watching the celebration in a corner. He noticed her, and a small smile replaced his frown, his eyes light.

_Not Alone._ A voice seemed to whisper in her as she stood, arms crossed as the Romans noticed her, cheering her as their leader, their downcast faces and dimmed moods changed into those of happiness and gladness. She would have been happy too, if it hadn't been for the fact that their happiness meant destruction, and their praise falsely given. Somebody started clapping, and soon the whole room was filled with it. She nodded at them all, and soon they went back to their own chattering. Nobody seemed to notice her red and puffy eyes or her defeated expression.

She looked for Octavian, and she caught his gaze again. It was soft, happy as if to say _'You see? They're happy. Good job'_ She scowled slightly.

They were happy based off a lie, they were excited because of trickery. And for a moment Reyna wished they would go back to their old, depressed ways.

At least she wouldn't be feeling as guilty, even more so then when she had been withholding the truth, then she did now.

* * *

**That was fun to write :D How do you think I did Reyna? Poorly? Good? And what of Octavian? **

**If you want me to continue, then go ahead and leave a comment. If I do continue, I'll make sure Octavians true colors shine ^^**


	2. In Sickness

**Well, decided to get back into the folds of Reyvian writing!**

**Reyvian, Reyvian everywhere!**

**It isn't in my usual style, maybe because I've been reading to much Lemony Snicket xD**

**It is, however, set in a hotel like the one my previous work was in, so you are familiar with the setting even if you aren't familiar with the style or the story xD**

**I swear, the Reyna I always write seems to take on this weepy, pissed-off quality. I feel bad for portraying her like this, but I have to have incentive for the two to be semi-civil to each other, right? Please, help me develop this weird character before I pull my eyes out **

* * *

**In Sickness**

Reyna groaned as she rubbed her temples, light dots bouncing around her eyes as if somebody had taken a flash light and started turning it off and on directly in her face as she struggled to wake up, head pounding as if she had had too much to drink. Which was strange, because Reyna had only ever touched alcohol once, and it had been such an unpleasant experience that she had vowed never to touch the stuff again. As she slowly woke up, so did her senses; a sort of coarse blanket was, from what she could tell, wrapped around her frame, and her body ached from being in a peculiar position that rather unnerved Reyna as soon as her mind figured out how to work again, which took a minute. There was a tinge of peppermint in the air, a smell that reminded her slowly waking brain of something, but what that something was right now she couldn't remember. Her head felt unbelievably foggy, as well as aching, as if she had woken up from a very long cry that wasn't necessarily helpful, but felt nice to do it anyway.

Which she had done before. That is to say, woken up from a very long cry that hadn't been necessarily helpful, but felt nice to do it anyway.

She struggled to sit up, but she could barely move because of pain. Her muscles where uncooperative, protesting her and yelled for her to go back to sleep or stay still. She felt the familiar sense of irritability that surfaced whenever she was faced with a dilemma or a certain serial killer of stuffed playthings. What was she doing, sleeping on a chair or something? This thought made her all the more determined to sit up and examine her surroundings. As she looked around, deciding exactly where she would put her feet (which were pretty much asleep), she realized with a start that she was not in her own room. Which is to say, she was not in her own hotel room that she had been staying in for the past month, not talking about her own room back at New Rome, that was many miles away and hadn't been slept in in a long, long time.

Creamed coloured curtains draped over two long windows on either side of an elaborately decorated green-coloured bed. And, if she had to guess, a green plush carpet covered the floor, which signaled all to well as to whose room she was in, and it made the fogginess in her head seem like not such a big deal, as if she had finally woken up. The light outside the windows suggested it was around late evening, as the sun was beginning to disappear and the stars were coming out.

She rose quickly, ignoring her body's protests as she scanned the room for anything else. The light outside the windows suggested it was around late evening, as the sun was beginning to disappear and the stars were coming out. How long had she been asleep? She _had_ been resting-but-not-really in a rather comfy-but-not-really-chair, which explained her sore body, and the coarse thing that had been draped over her was a wool blanket. These details she didn't particularly mind; she liked wool, and had found herself, on many occasions, dozing off or curling in a chair for sleep. What bothered her, and what was getting her newly awoken blood boiling, was _why_ both of these details happened to be _in_ _her worst enemy's room._

She couldn't, for the life of her, remember what had happened yesterday or last night that would have led up to her asleep in a chair, with a wool blanket covering her, in a teddy bear murderers room. Everything was fuzzy and disjointed, even if her mind at the moment was not, or at least trying not to be. She tried as hard as she could to conjure a reason to be passed out in her nemesis' chair, but her mind faltered, not cooperating with her desire to think and amplifying her head ache at the same time, making her frustrated beyond belief.

She felt herself stagger, and barely caught herself on the edge of the bed before she toppled over her own two legs and onto the floor. She caught herself on her hands before she could land face-first, and started to shake. She stayed there for a moment, waiting for the shakes to pass before slowly making her way back to her feet, leaning over the bed as support. Her new life line looked especially inviting right now, and in her state her mind was thinking of oh so many excuses as to why she should just lay down and take a real, long, comfy-but-not-really nap.

Her head hurt.

Her body was sore.

She felt like crying. For no reason at all.

For a moment it didn't occur to her that the sheets she wanted to climb under had been used by a psycho-augury, but the head ache really made that all seem trivial, so the fact that she wanted to climb into a psycho-augury's bed - even if he had been there himself, her fuzzy mind reasoned- did not incur the wrath that usually found its way to her whenever she thought of somebody, especially _him_, near her like that.

Suddenly, she felt very, very hot, as if the temperature had risen at least 30 more degrees then what it had been before. She let out a small moan and buried her face in the comforts of the green sheets, closing her eyes as her vision began to swim. She felt like somebody had just set her in a very heated room and spun her in circles, all the while making very loud noises. Slowly, the whole thing was starting to piss her off. Anger found its way up and in her brain, not at anybody in particular but just at everything. Whatever was going on with her, she swore she was going to kill somebody. Which really, a part of her reasoned, was highly unlikely thanks to the fact that she could barely stand, her head throbbing like somebody decided to hit her with a hammer, and her fuzzy-but-not-really mind was actually trying to persuade her to climb into that bed, no matter the consequences.

However, she could imagine herself standing before a certain somebody, digging her knife slowly into his chest, just because she could.

Then, to her dismay, her stomach began to churn, the all-too familiar feeling making her somewhat snap out of her drunken-like stupor and head straight for the bathroom. She, for lack of better word, puked whatever contents that had found their way into her stomach down the toilet, just in time, and clutched the seat as she waited for the feeling to pass. She forgot about being angry and simply crouched there, head hovering over the toilet bowl, squeezing her eyes shut. Just because it could, her anger began building again immediately, and mentally she started to scream out;

_Curse it...curse the Gods, curse my sister, curse Jason, curse Percy Jackson and the Greeks! Curse me, curse Octavian, curse that teddy bear murderer!_

"Well...being cursed sounds like it would be lovely and all, but you cursed me twice, and you cursed yourself."

Reyna slowly turned her head so that she could see who decided to intrude upon her state, her mind not quite registering the face or the voice until after a moment, to which she felt like she really wanted to be cursed.

"Oc...tavian..." She grumbled out, and she watched as the boy, who was frowning, take a few steps toward her.

"You shouldn't have gotten up. You've been sick for days." His voice, strangely, sounded all soothing and such, to which Reyna, who was being heavily influenced by the influenza as well as hormones, snapped,

"Get the hell away from me!" She yelled-well, pretty much screamed- standing up and charging him. Sadly, her attack pretty much failed, as the rather healthy Octavian simply stepped to the side and wrapped an arm around her waist as she, carried by her momentum, ran past him, which provided the perfect set up for him to wrap his arms around her, effectively stopping her from possibly charging into the bed or attacking any unsuspecting inanimate objects. He lifted her up slightly, and as she felt her feet leave the ground, she realized she had been, rather pathetically, beaten by Octavian in this little imaginary match she had found herself in.

Irrational anger made her want to start fighting like a cat, but instead other irrational emotions, some of which she didn't quite understand, took over instead and she, like many hormonal teenage girls who got sick and who were thoroughly tired, began to cry.

"You really are a piece of work, Reyna." Octavian muttered as he carried Reyna back into the bathroom and gently set the sobbing girl on the green-veined granite counter. She barely paid attention to anything at all as he left the room and then returned, a cup in his right hand filled with water and a damp wash clothe in the other. She was finally getting over her sobbing and felt rather like a robot as Octavian directed her gently to drink the water and rinse her mouth out into the sink before he began to gently wipe her face clean from residue puke and tears, somewhat like a father would their little girl. She tried to feel indignant at being treated like a child, but that emotion, any emotion really, refused to surface at the moment.

She turned slightly and saw herself in the mirror. Her eyes were baggy with dark circles lining them, contrasting sharply with her vampire-pale skin. Her hair was, thankfully, in a tight french braid, only slightly disheveled as if she had slept in it, which she deduced she had. She was wearing, to her slight horror, a pair of flannel black-on-grey plaid nightpants and a baggy grey T, clothes she had never even seen before. She caught Octavians gaze and he chuckled, as if there was a secret that only he knew, and she would be terrified to fight out if she had the emotional complicity to care for more then 5 seconds.

Thankfully, he stopped washing her face and turned away from her, filling up the cup again and handing it to her. Her throat, she finally noticed after her cry, felt very dry and she eagerly took the water, downing it quickly with his assistance, to which she was growing rather annoyed of. She hadn't even noticed that he had slipped something into it, but drinking it made her feel slightly better, clearing her head and slowly soothing the ache. She looked at him and held out the cup, silently asking for more to which he nodded. For a few minutes it went from Reyna drinking the water, which felt great cascading down her throat and cooling it as well as washing away the stomach acid and helping with the dryness that one usually feels when one is sick, to Octavian filling the glass back up and repeat.

Finally, much like a bartender would cut off a heavily drunken man, so Octavian finally cut off Reyna, setting down the cup gently.

"You'll get even more sick if your stomach is too full. Hate to go through the puking again, wouldn't we?" Reyna wanted to pout, but the water had helped clear her mind as well as sooth her throat, and she found herself rather wanting to argue instead of resorting to something childish like pouting.

However, before she could even utter words of disagreement, he scooped her off the counter, bridal style, and started to carry her out of the bathroom, to which ignited that irrational anger all over again from before as she, rather weakly, began to hit him again his chest.

"Put..me..down..." She said, tying to sound like the commanding praetor she was, but instead she sounded slightly like a very disagreeable, sick child.

She heard a sigh as Octavian maneuvered her so that she was being held in one arm, something that surprised Reyna, who thought he was generally weak, and heard the sound of sheets being rolled back and then she was, rather unceremoniously, put down on the bed.

Which is to say, Octavian finally obeyed her wishes and rather then gently handle her, as he had been doing, dropped her onto the bed instead with a rather hard _thump!_

She let out a growl, like a feral animal, but couldn't protest fast enough because Octavian had already draped the sheets, which were rather heavy, onto her body and effectively trapped her like a bug. Like any person dealing with sickness, after being so hot she felt rather cold, not just slight-breeze cold but full on freezing cold, and snuggled under the blankets, shivering even though her mind said she was warm and forgetting that she was even in the presence of an enemy. Well, a self-considered enemy anyway.

"What would they say? Reyna, great leader, the one who leads troops into impossible battles and leads them out victoriously, has caught a bug." Octavian muttered loud enough for her to hear, reminding Reyna that he was there and bringing a sour look to her face. She growled at him again, to which his only reply was the rolling of his eyes as he turned away from the bed and began to leave the room.

"Whereeryougin?" She said (more like grumbled) into the blankets. He didn't reply as he made his way across the room, only stopping at the door momentarily and casting her one long, slightly annoyed, look before leaving the room.

Reyna immediately felt panicked, as if his leaving left her vulnerable. She crawled a bit more under her blankets, trying to make herself think rational thoughts.

_Nothings going to happen, he'll be back...right?_

_Well duh...he isn't going to leave you here in his bed._

_Yeah. It is his bed, after all, Reyna._

_That sounds wrong, but I hope he comes back soon..._

_You want him to come back?! Get a hold of yourself, Reyna! He's your enemy!_

_I know that, but-_

_No! He wants to kill the Greeks, whom you are trying to save, remember! If you don't, so much blood will be-_

That made her anger swell again, and she sat up, despite the covers that trapped her, and glared at nothing (she would glare at herself, but she hadn't seen a mirror except for in the bathroom, and she didn't want to really move again), and grabbed whatever was closest to her, a defenseless pillow, catapulting it across the room out of pure rage. It smashed into a vase, knocking it down and shattering it while shaking the table as well. She didn't even care about that as she grabbed the covers and held them to her face, letting out a scream that was muffled by said pillows.

"I don't care! I don't care! Let them die! Let them perish!...It's their fault!...their fault..." She wasn't even sure who she was yelling at anymore. Was it the Greeks? Herself? Octavian?

Or was it Percy and Jason?

Those two individuals sent her blood pressure higher whenever she thought of them now, and in her sickened state it amplified those hidden feelings of hurt and betrayal she tried so hard to hide on a day-today basis. How could they leave her after destroying her city like it was no big deal? They had, literally, left her to hold the fort while they traveled across the world. Left her in charge of an angry mob of not-so-friendly teenagers. Of course, in the back of her ill mind she knew they were trying to save the world, but why did they both have to go? Why didn't one of them stay with her? Why did they leave her? Didn't they know that these people needed not one strong leader, but two?

She was beginning to feel like she had had this monologue about Percy and Jason leaving before, but brushed the thought away.** (xD)**

Finally she asked herself, _What am I doing? I'm sitting in somebody elses bed, puking in somebody elses toilet, and crying for no reason. They're gone, and thats the end of that. _She leaned over and feel with a soft _thump_ onto her side, the rage dissipating and replacing itself with exhaustion. The urge of wanting to go home replaced everything she had been feeling previously, and she didn't even notice the slight creek of the door or the soft footsteps as she began to slowly cry again, drifting off into sleep, but not before feeling a cool towel placed on her forehead.

* * *

When she woke up again, it might have been late afternoon or early evening. The cream-coloured curtains had been opened, along with the windows, so that a soft breeze was let in and the sounds of a bustling city could be heard from below. She felt groggy and slow, her head slightly stuffed-up but not aching like it had been previously. This helped her mind work faster, as she took a more awake gaze around the room. Slowly, the memories of her previous awakening came to the surface, and she inwardly groaned at herself for how she had acted. The vase she had broken earlier was gone and replaced with a new one, with a small bundle of summer-type flowers, and the pillow was gone. Her throat hurt a bit, but at least she was clear-minded enough to know it was just sore. From sickness or from crying, however, she wasn't sure.

She remembered her rather strange and rather unwanted-but-needed caretaker, and she put a hand to her throat as she tried to speak;

"Oc..tavian?" She called out quietly, looking around and not noticing the blonde boy who sat in the chair next to the bed, where she had woken up previously, with a book in his hands, intently reading whatever was written in it. He only cast her a glance, sighing slightly as he closed the book.

"Look who has finally decided to wake up again. After the theatrics yesterday, I would have thought you'd just die from allowing that much emotion to show. You scared quite a few kids, miss Reyna." Despite his rather cold words, he stood up and pressed the back of his hand gently to her forehead. She almost shivered at the touch; they didn't touch often -she usually avoided any and all contact with him- but his cool hand felt good against her head, which she hadn't noticed was fairly hot thanks to the open windows. Involuntarily she leaned into it, enjoying the cool feeling and effectively weirding out her caretaker.

"How long?..." She started to ask. He took his hand away from her forehead, muttering something about her fever breaking before answering her question,

"Only about 3 days. You were completely out the first day, fainted while we were going over war plans. You have no clue how many people you freaked out with your moaning and screaming when they had tried to get you to a good place to lay down. You had locked the door to your room, and we had no clue where your keys were, so we just set you up in here on the bed because nobody else wanted you in their room. Somebody suggested just breaking down the door, but we were pretty sure the owners were not going to appreciate that. You did wake up once that day, but you were asleep in that chair when I found you. I just left you there and next thing I know, there is no Reyna but lots of noise coming from the bathroom the next day. You are very hard to try to take care of, girl." He lifted up his arm to show a rather painful-looking bite mark that resembled a human mouth. He was talking to her like she was a sick, cornered animal, as if talking any different would induce another rage attack.

Which was what she was starting to feel like at the moment.

She felt slightly guilty for the bite mark but just dumbly nodded. She couldn't quite digest what had happened, but she did have a faint memory of standing over a table, arguing over something before it got cloudy again.

Another question nagged at her mind, and she limply pointed to her shirt. He chuckled, and by the gleam in his eyes, she knew she was in for something.

"Well, we couldn't just let you sleep in your normal day clothes, could we?" He said innocently enough, but the look on Reynas face was priceless -in a bad way- at what he was implying.

"You...wha...no-" She stopped as he started to laugh. It wasn't the mean-spirited laugh he usually did, but it was still insulting that he was laughing at her.

"No, Reyna. Two of the girls changed your clothes...though they are mine. Like I said, we couldn't get into your room, and we're roughly the same size. And I'm pretty sure you wouldn't have liked being put into one of those flimsy things that all the other girls wear to bed."

She only nodded at this, still perturbed that he had laughed at her and that she was wearing his clothes, but otherwise glad that he hadn't been the one to dress her.

"Although, " He added thoughtfully, "You weren't very nice to them, so I did have to hold you down while they...I'm kidding!" He added as soon as he saw that her face had turned several shades of red and her gaze, although slightly drunk looking, was fierce.

If looks could kill, he'd probably be dead. Which Reyna would have been perfectly happy with at that particular moment.

He sighed and picked up a cup of water, holding it to her mouth, "Drink." He directed, and her mind, which was having a hard time concentrating on more then one thing at a time, nodded and she let him help her gulp it down.

"Why didn't you...?" She started after finishing, her voice not quite working. However, he seemed to understand the question,

"We tried nectar and ambrosia, but you refused to eat anything, even though you weren't really conscious, and the nectar didn't seem to work when we gave it to you until yesterday with our little fiasco." Her face turned another shade of red, although less noticeable so that Octavian didn't seem to see it, "We think that one of the Greek mages might have cast a curse on you or something. How they got through the barriers, I've no clue."

Because she wasn't really capable of complete speech at the moment, she just nodded again and sat silently while turning her attention to the hustle and bustle of the city below.

She felt Octavians presence leave the room, and as soon as she heard the click of the door she flung away the covers and jumped out of the bed, almost tripping over herself again but managing to catch herself this time beforehand. She absently wandered around the room, first she checked the door, which was locked, although it didn't quite fully register that it locked from the inside, and she wandered away to looking at the rest of the room.

It was pretty tidy, a little too clean for her tastes and a bit too neat for a boy, but it was also homey, which was strange because usually hotel rooms didn't appear to be homey at all. Her room definitely wasn't, but Octavian seemed to put little touches here and there that not only accented the room, but brought a warm feeling to it. Little nicknats and such were scattered in a seemingly hazardous fashion (neatly, of course..if that made any sense), but it made it feel much more...alive, more so then even her own room back at New Rome. She had read is a magazine that the way a person decorates their room or hoe was usually a reflection of themselves, suddenly she found that she didn't want to wander around the room anymore; she felt like it was a personal intrusion of sorts, like she was finding out more about the boy then she had known before, and she had no desire to find out personal things about her least favorite person.

She wandered back towards the bed and the chair, wanting to just lie down again but the book that Octavian had been reading caught her eye.

"Romeo and...Juliet?" She muttered, picking up the small volume of one of the worlds most famous- and tragic, apparently- love story in time. She had never read it herself- she wasn't much of a reader- but finding Octavian read such a book made her chuckle quietly, as she settled down into the chair and opened up the book. She found herself contradicting what she had just thought moments ago, curious as to why Octavian would read such a book when he didn't seem like a romantic type in the least.

She scarcely got through the first act, groaning when she realized it was a play, before she heard the door click open. Without thinking she threw the book across the room -breaking the new vase and sending the flowers toppling- and jumped out of the chair, trying to look nonchalant but failing miserably. Octavian closed the door behind him and sighed.

She thought for a moment he was just going to sigh himself into oblivion.

She also had a feeling he would be rubbing his temples right now if it wasn't for the steaming food in his hands. Two bowls were filled with what appeared to be oat meal, a little sugar and what looked like -making her stomach growl rather loudly- fresh strawberries on top.

She sat down on the bed quickly, finding herself rather hungry, and waited as Octavian walked across the room, handing her the bowl carefully.

"It's hot, so-" She had already started scooping the food into her mouth before he could warn her, ignoring the heat and just relishing the taste of food in her mouth. She heard him sigh again as he took a seat in the chair, eating while watching her at the same time. She also watched him, and continued watching him even when his eyes left her and looked around the room, finally noticing the vase and the soiled book.

"Reyna...you really need to stop breaking those vases. They might have horrible taste, but the owners of this hotel do not appreciate you breaking their very old, very authentic, china-made vases."

For some reason, whether it was her ill mind or not, she found that funny and began to giggle, a strawberry half-chewed in her mouth as she hid behind her bowl. Octavian just rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to his own food, but not before she saw a small smile prick at his lips.

For a moment, she remembered with clarity that she was in a room with somebody who was practically trying to take her authority away from her and destroy her somewhat friends-but-not-really home. It almost started to make her sick that she was almost enjoying herself at that moment, like she was betraying everybody else just by simply giggling.

He might have sensed her shift in mood, the smile fading as they both fell silent. When she was finished, she handed the bowl to Octavian, who took his as well as hers and set them on a small inn-table.

She stretched out slightly, yawning a bit but otherwise she felt good, way better then yesterday. She felt like changing into something that wasn't Octavians, but she felt hesitant to leave the nice room. It was warm-not in the literal sense, but an emotional one- and, she hated to admit it, she didn't like the thought of being left alone to her own devices.

"You should probably find your key and go to your own room. A shower would make you feel better, but you need to let your troops know their leader hasn't been reduced to a raving, feverish lunatic who bites people."

His voice was formal and impersonal, and something in Renya tore as she nodded, shuffling off the bed as she tried to remember where she had hid that blasted key but feeling slightly distracted by his words. Well, not really his words, but the way he had said them. Like he wanted her to get out right away. Her previous thoughts melted away replaced with, what she thought might have been hurt.

With a light blush that she hoped looked more like a fever-red, she remembered that she had hid her key in one of her untouchable spots. She gave Octavian a silent nod, absently walking towards the door. She didn't register the hand that gently guided her, but she did hear the shutting -it sounded like it had almost slammed- door behind her. She felt cold and alone in that moment, the warmth seeping away from her. She wandered about until she remembered in what direction her room was exactly, and set out to find it.

It didn't take long and, making sure she was as inconspicuous as possible, reached into her bra and brought out her key. She was quick to unlock the door and then shut it behind her, locking it behind her just as quickly and leaned against it.

She felt like she wanted to cry again, but she didn't know why. There was no way she was feeling like crying over how Octavian sounded..was there? She hated him, they both knew that, and yet he had taken care of her, gently even. She had acted like a complete animal, at least thats what she got from the way his dark eyes and even paler skin looked, along with the harsh-looking teeth marks, but he had still taken care of her best he could. She was beginning to get frustrated over his actions and her own, and felt like a scream might help her situation even though it really wouldn't.

Instead she stripped right in the middle of the room and randomly picked articles of clothing before going into the bathroom, absently taking her hair out of its tight braid. She turned the water on, making sure it was fairly hot before stepping into its jets, shuddering slightly. She was trying to put her jumbled thoughts together, but even though the water was lovely and it made the stuffiness in her head almost melt away, her thoughts and emotions remained clouded. She was tired of thinking about the blue-eyed, blonde boy who killed furry creatures, but she couldn't get the worried look of his out of her head. She leaned her head against the side of the shower wall, closing her eyes tightly and biting her bottom lip like she usually did when getting upset.

_Okay, you either need to get a grip or loose it again, Reyna. Your people need you. Get your ass in gear, put on a smile, and deal with this shit._

She finished her shower and quickly dried off, changing into a pair of clean pants and Camp Jupiters dark purple T. She quickly braided her hair and nodded at herself in the mirror; she didn't look as pale as she had yesterday and definitely more awake then she had a few minutes ago. Her choice of clothing made her skin look a bit washed-out, but to herself she didn't look like she had been that sick.

* * *

When she entered the waiting-room-turned-war-tent, eyes darted to her with worrying glances. There were a few familiar faces, but she wasn't exactly putting names to them at the moment and just approached the table.

There was a moment of silence before everybody began to talk at once, asking her how she felt, if she should be up, why had Octavian let her walk around when she was obviously still sick. She tried to calm them down, but it took the slamming of a door to get them to shut up as Octavian entered the room, looking just as awake as any ordinary person but with an angry expression.

"Reyna is perfectly well to handle talk of war. Now, are we going to sit here and try to make a mountain out of a mole-hill, or are we going to continue with our war planning, which has been stalled long enough?" Nobody disputed Octavian, but all eyes turned to Reyna.

She was still feeling sick, and she wanted to shrink away from their gazes as well as his furious-looking one, but she squared her shoulders and nodded, finding her voice,

"We have stalled long enough. Lets get back to planning..." With that, the room turned to a steady pace, as officers gave out suggestions. Reyna felt like she had never nodded her head or shook it so much in her life, but she was glad that they weren't talking about her being ill anymore.

She felt a pair of eyes locked onto her and looked up at the owner. Octavian just watched her a moment, as if deciding to look away or not, before his expression softened and he whispered for her ears only,

"It's good to have you back."

* * *

**OH MY GOSH! That lasted SOO long!**

**Any longer, and it would have been a two-shot o.O**

**Anyway, hope you enjoyed Reynas few sick days and Octavians slight caring side. I had felt like making him turn all devil on her, but decided not to. This needed a sweeter ending, don't you think?**

**Actually...(starts to cackle...)**

* * *

When the war council meeting had ended, Octavian sighed deeply and stepped away from the people and outside the room, hoping to get some alone time. However, his desire was easily disrupted by a rather sugar-hyped Dekoda, sloshing around his red Kool-aid but looking pretty much sober.

Octavian scowled and pressed a finger to his temple, waiting for Dekoda to speak, which he knew he would,

"Umm...Octy-man...I'm just curious...Why didn't you let us give Reyna any ambrosia or nectar the whole time she was sick? It would have sped her healing up faster and besides, we knew she hadn't been cursed by any mages."

When Dekoda spoke his annoying little nickname, the augur almost skewered him. However, at the drunken kids question, Octavian finally broke into a grin and smiled at Dekoda, his eyes flashing with dangerous intensity and causing the decedent of Bacchus to involuntarily shy back.

"Come now...isn't normal TLC better for a sick person...especially a woman? Some people just need to...work through their sickness, instead of being giving a free pass to health."

Dekoda just shrugged and walked away, swaying and tumbling as he went and glad to get away from the scary and dangerous boy. The smile quickly fell from Octavians face as he put his hands into his pockets and started to walk down the hallway, clicking his tongue.

"Besides...I heard some rather interesting things while she was sleep talking..something about...hiding the Greeks?" He said this quietly so it fell on no ears listening, and inside he felt...well, he wasn't quite sure what he felt yet.

Except for angry. Very, very angry.

* * *

**There! A more proper ending for our Octy-man :3**

**Poor Reyna, she could have been better in moments, but we all know Octavian...The bastard he is xD**

**It seems like this little section is heading for a sequel. Tell me what you think first, and maybe it'll happen. It already feels like a sequel to Alone...so what does one call the sequel to a sort of sequel?**

**Anyway, thanks for bearing with me and reading this sorta-really-long-oneshot :3 Toodles **


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